“Well... yes,” I stammer. I’m not entirely sure what I'm agreeing to, but I’m certainly not just going to give it to her.
“Then you’re fired.”
My mouth drops open.
“Theft of company property, by my reckoning,” she continues coldly. “Pity. You won’t even qualify for unemployment. That will be so weird. It’s a tough life. Unemployed writers are just about everywhere, aren't they?”
“Jesus, Hannah. Do you have to be such a bitch?”
She grins, her smile cruel and dry as she slowly stands up and picks the phone up from her desk.
“Security? Please accompany Ms. Cage out of the building. Retrieve her ID as well. Her employment here is terminated. Thank you.” She returns the phone to its cradle and regards me.
My head is spinning.
“I just… I can't…”
I try to think of something to say, but there's nothing left. She looks so different than the picture that's on my cell phone, the one with the freckles and big smile, but now I see this is really her. I don’t mean anything to her. And it dawns on me that I probably never have. Somehow I made up this whole fantasy world we were such good friends, that all seems totally fabricated now.
I'm a writer. That's what we do.
You’re just not supposed to live in them.
CHAPTER 18
Dillon
Emmet knocks on the door, but there’s no answer. He looks at me, shrugging.
“Well, she's got lights on in there. She's got to be home.”
“Yeah, but she's not answering her phone. She doesn’t want to answer the door either,” Emmet scowls. “Maybe we should just leave her alone?”
We stare at each other for a few seconds, pondering the idea.
“Well, we were going to uh, get together and fuck, though, right?” I venture. “That was the deal, right? After the boat and everything?”
I mean, I don't want to be petty or force anyone into anything, but she clearly agreed to that. That was the plan.
“Yeah, subtle,” Emmet mumbles, shaking his head. After another moment's hesitation, he raises his hand and knocks on the door again, just slightly louder than before. Not like FBI loud or drug dealer loud, but loud. I reach out and press the buzzer with my thumb again.
“Okay, if she doesn't answer now, then she really doesn't want to see us,” I say reasonably. “Like for real, real.”
Emmet scowls, leaning toward me conspiratorially.
“Well, our deal is done, right? I mean, maybe she's just… done? Like that's it? Finished with us?”
“Yeah, maybe…”
We look out in opposite directions, mulling it over. Could that really be it? Could she just turn it all off
, just like that?
Man. Cold.
Finally I see a shadow in the hallway, growing larger. When she opens the door, she looks up at us with tears in her eyes, her makeup smudged into thumbprints on her cheeks, her nose red and shiny.
“Oh my God,” Emmet blurts out. “What happened? Are you okay?”